Living With Desmond
by angelwithabutt
Summary: Desmond is living with Shaun, and there are a few problems...well, by a few I mean lots. Slight ShaunXDesmond.
1. Gay or Internet?

It's surprising when your best friend walks down the stairs in a t-shirt covered in rainbows and stars. Well, it was to Shaun. "Desmond...why are you wearing a rainbow t-shirt?"  
>"Because rainbows are cool."<p>

"Desmond...is this your way of coming out of the closet?"  
>"NO!" Desmond promptly ran off into his bedroom. This was becoming a regular occurrence.<p>

"Desmond? Where's my laptop?" The historian searched for it for ages, and it had only occurred to him to ask his flatmate for it.  
>"Here, Shaun." Desmond handed the laptop to him, turned off.<br>'What were you doing with it?"  
>"Err...nothing.." He looked at the floor and blushed a little. Most people would instantly assume the same thing Shaun did.<p>

"Oh...oh god." He put the computer down on the table and ran out the room. Homework could wait.

It was obscenely early for Shaun, he usually woke up at about 8am. But today, something was going on in the other room to make Desmond giggle like that. He opened the door and shouted at the poor man.  
>"DESMOND! I AM TRYING TO SLEEP TO SHUT UP!"<p>

"Sorry Shaun."  
>"What are you doing anyway?"<br>"Nothing..." The Englishman had to tear the computer from his vice-like grip to find out, and then he saw the thing that was making his friend laugh. A simple thing that is seriously addictive.

Robot Unicorn Attack.


	2. Stop copying me

**I thought of Shaun trying to be really British, but it didn't suit. So Desmond tries to impress Shaun by being of his kind. Enjoy :D**

"You know, good man, I think I rather fancy some tea."  
>"Desmond, stop talking like a twat and make yourself some."<br>"Spiffing-ly so, sir." Desmond got up from his seat and wobbled over to the kitchen, trying to walk like a tight rope walker. Once the 'tea' had been made, a curious Shaun looked up to find Desmond wobbling back with the tea set on a small tray. He sighed.  
>"Desmond...what are you doing?"<br>"My dear fellow, I am trying to enjoy some of your fine British tea in this lovely porcelain tea set. Would you care for a drop?" He then proceeded to pour two cups of his famous rat killing tea into some cups and handing one to Shaun.

"..." The silence was deafening to the two as they sipped, choked, and were rushed to hopsital.

3 weeks later, once they were out of hospital, Desmond had finally managed his life long (6 week long) dream of buying a tweed suit. He sat across from our historian while pretending to smoke a 'pipe' or a piece of plumbing.

"Desmond, are you trying to be British?"  
>"My good sir, I am British. Can you not see this pipe that I am smoking?" he gestured to the pipe he was holding. Shaun face palmed hard.<br>"A pipe if a twisted smoking device, not a piece of plumbing to dick."  
>"Ohh..."<p>

"Stop reading my letters home, and stop acting like Lucy after a night out."  
>"Fine then.."<p>

**1 week later**

"**You know, my dear friend. I rather fancy smoking my pipe."  
>"GODDAMN IT DESMOND!"<strong>


	3. Just don't let Shaun on deviantArt

Shaun looked intently at Desmond, as if mentally drawing him. To most people, this is creepy anyway – to a crazed man who has a habit to turning into his ancestors, this is more than creepy.  
>"Dude, stop checkin' me out."<br>"Desmond, stop talking street."

"When you stop diggin' me."

"Desmond!"  
>"Fine, just stop staring at me." The historian looked back to his book and sighed. He had failed at his job so guesswork was key at this now. He got up and walked up the stairs slowly, pondering colours and history. <p>

xXxXxXxXxXxXx 2 hours later xXxXxXxXxXxXx

Shaun walked down the stairs...to find Desmond on his computer, glaring at the screen with his mouth open.  
>"Shaun...have you read the stuff about us? People think that we're together or something and some stories even stay that we sleep together." Desmond shut his eyes and clicked randomly at the screen.<br>"Make it go away!" Shaun sighed and turned the computer off, tapping Desmond on the shoulder. "C'mon, it's nearly midnight. Work. Morning. Need. Sleep." He grabbed his flatmate by the collar and literally dragged him up the stairs and plonked him down infront of his room. "Night Miles." The now sprawled out on the floor Desmond blinked tiredly and tilted his head to the right like a confused puppy.

"Goodnight then." As soon as Shaun had turned his light on, Desmond ran down the stairs and started the computer. He loaded up his desired page and his fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard. "Alright...lets see what this-" He was cut off by a picture of him and his "friend" Shaun in a very compromising position. To put it lightly, he screamed. In reality, he squealed like a little girl. This , unfortunately, woke up said friend and brought Desmond a world of pain in the morning. For now, Shaun had rushed downstairs and saw the picture on the screen. He hurried over and quickly scanned the screen. Humming and turning around, he barely suppressed the smirk he was thinking. It still was possible to see that Shaun was pleased though, and Desmond knew it as well.  
>"Shaun...do...do you ENJOY his shit?"<p>

"I'm just impressed with the views on the picture. Apparently, a lot of people like it. That and the fact that I'm topping." He grinned. "Looks like even in the minds of fangirls you're still a complete prat." Desmond checked out the views on the picture and gasped. Over 1,000. He checked out the name of the creator, and finally managed to piece the pieces together.

The name was GuyFawkes1.

"GODDAMN IT SHAUN ARE YOU DRAWING US AGAIN!"


	4. Shaun's scientific problems

"Mwahahahahahahaha!" Note to Desmond. DO NOT go into the kitchen when Shaun is making tea. Especially if that tea is home made, and giving off purple smoke. Or if it's bubbling in a cauldron while the creator is dancing around it speaking in Latin. And NEVER tap them on the shoulder and ask if you can borrow their laptop because your hard-drive is filled up sexy pictures of Rebecca and Shaun.

"Desmond! Would you like a cup of tea?"  
>"Umm...sure?" Shaun handed our scared American a cup of tea...which was orange...and had lumps in it...and was giving off petrol fumes.<p>

"Drink it all up!" Desmond chugged it down – lumps and all – before running to the bathroom and vomiting. Shaun's tea was NOT good for the body, to put it nicely. A slightly nervous Shaun poked his head around the corner to find Desmond passed out on the tiles, with his head on the toilet seat. After careful dragging and probably a serious head injury, he abandoned his unconscious friend at the top of the stairs.

"SHAUN! Get your British ass up here and fix this!" Oh dear...the tea had side affects. In a blind panic said – well it was more screamed – guy sprinted up the stairs to find a lady sitting in Desmond's bed, in his pyjamas and frantically rubbing her body.

"Yes! The tea works!" He jumped up and danced around before the female Desmond tackled him and throttled his neck.  
>"I...am...going...to...fucking...KILL...you."<br>"You have very smooth hands."  
>"Just stop using me as a guinea pig and put this right."<p>

**1 MONTH LATER**

"SHAUN! STOP GIVING ME YOUR TEA AND PUT ME BACK INTO A HUMAN!"  
>"Why?...You look adorable as a puppy!"<p> 


End file.
